


I Always Come Back

by CatNip_618



Series: Five Nights at Freddy’s [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: 5 nights at freddy's, Bite of ‘87, FNaF — Ultimate Custom Night, Gen, OC : Original Character, Sister Location — FNaF, Springtrap - Freeform, William Afton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatNip_618/pseuds/CatNip_618
Summary: Teenager William Afton awakens in the old costume of Spring Bonnie, a springlock suit that claimed the life of a serial killer with the same name...30 years prior.But, as the eeriely-discriptive memories of the serial killer rises questions; that soon cause a sudden insanity to consume William.He loses memories of his own boring past of an annoying little sister and reconciles with his much darker and older past of madness and murder.





	I Always Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> Has been heavily revised and edited to match an appropriate plot setting. 
> 
> Teenager William Afton is NOT the same Afton who murdered the children at Fazbear's...at least not YET.
> 
> Enjoy reading.  
> And remember: HE ALWAYS COMES BACK.

Charlie banged on William’s door. “Will! Open the door!” she demanded eagerly. 

The 19-year-old groaned aloud. He knew why Charlie was yelling at him. “Leave me alone!” 

Ever since the first Five Nights at Freddy’s (FNaF) game spread across the media, William’s younger sister had been freaking out about it. He dreaded the next release, and it’d been weeks since the release of the “Sister Location” version. In all honesty, he didn’t believe that such a game could cause such explosions across the media. 

 

It annoyed him. 

A lot. 

 

“Will! Scott announced the release of the next FNaF!” Charlie shrieked. 

“I said: leave me _alone!”_

Scott C-something was the creator of Five Nights at Freddy’s. But William couldn’t really do anything about it, it was Scott’s choice to earn some paper-greens for lousy video games. 

His sister grumbled a bit for stalking off to her fanatic obsessions. 

 

William’s sister was over-the-top obsessed with FNaF and William hated it. Yes, he knew his sister fangirled over unnecessary things and stuff, but this was a bit—as mentioned—over the top. 

 _No,_ the teen scoffed to himself, _it’s not...it’s pouring buckets._

 

“Loser,” he muttered. 

 

He turned back to his homework after seeming to be in deep thought for a few moments, but something stopped him. Well, it was more of a some _one_ than a some _thing_ that stopped him, but it still concerned him. At first he thought it was his old A/C, but it was off—as usual. He wasn’t allowed a TV in his room, so that couldn’t be it. 

His phone was pretty much dead, and he’d neglected to charge it...so that’s a no-go either. 

Then, where were the whispers coming from? 

 

A high-pitched giggle there. A metallic creak here. 

He saw a flash of a golden head that looked terrifyingly familiar before—before what? 

 

_”IT’S ME!”_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  _Hiiisss..._

_Cliiiick..._

 

... 

 

Quiet. 

 

...

 

Sore. 

 

_Claaannk..._

_Creeeaak..._

“Ow...” 

William managed to open his eyes, but they didn’t feel right. In fact, nothing of his felt right. 

But that wasn’t what he needed to worry about. How’d he get here? 

 

 _Where is here, anyway?_ he groggily asked himself. 

It was clear that he was leaning against a wall. But how could that be if he couldn’t feel the wall? 

 

He tried moving.

”Ow! Jesus Christ...” 

He couldn’t move. Well, he could—it was extremely difficult to do so, though. 

 

 

_”YOU CAN’T!”_

 

 

“W-What?” William moved his head, but all he heard was terrible sounds of metal-against-metal. He didn’t even _feel_ his head moving. This was getting bizarre. He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or not; it was too real. 

What the _hell_ was wrong with him?!

He couldn’t move; his body wasn’t cooperating! His jaw didn’t work; his arms didn’t work; his hands didn’t work...

 

_His hands!_

 

With another ear-splitting _creeeeaak_ of his head, William managed to look at his hands. 

It took a minute to process what he was seeing. 

His hands...Willam’s _hands..._ weren’t human. 

 

They looked human, but they weren’t. Not one bit; they looked like a robot’s. 

 

William’s eyes trailed from his hands to his...body? His body was wired together. His torso looked unnaturallly round; his waist curved at the legs, which were horribly torn to reveal metallic feet with strings of steel. 

William reached up to feel his face, but it wasn't a face; a snout was there instead. He also two long, broken ears where one was almost entirely gone. His eyes were like a doll’s, but far creepier. 

 

Given a forced exposure to Charlie’s obsession with FNaF, William could kind-of guess what was going on.

He was stuck in one of those suits. And this one was old. 

 

The teen sighed, his breath stinking. It smelled terrible. He realized that could feel weird-looking wires invading his skin and bones. "Uh..." his mouth snapped open and closed, unable to process what he was seeing. Exposure at fault, he was slowly coming to terms in what situation he was in. 

Bringing his focus back to his...skin...he saw that it was rotted and withered. 

 William chuckled nervously. 

 _I am NOT stuck in a suit..._ he reassured himself in a weak, vain attempt to stop this nightmare,  _FNaF is a video game, for fuck’s sake! This is a dream. A sick joke; who the hell would put me in a animatronic suit?!_

 

Suddenly--a flicker. 

Of what? He didn't know. 

 

An image...of a... _boy?_

William shut his eyes, trying to focus on the image, but the things inside him were disruptive. Suddenly--it seemed he was engulfed into the image--as if he was seeing through the host's eyes. 

Realization struck him. This wasn't an image...

His stomach lurched.  _It's a memory..._ he told himself as he took in his new surroundings.  

 

He was in a big room that had checkered tile floors, streamers hanging from the plastic pizzas that hung from the ceiling. Long, narrow tables that looked a bit helter-skelter from whomever was sitting in them-- _probably kids,_ William guessed uneasily. Sparkly, glittery party hats were strewn on the floor and the walls reeked of grease, cheese and mold. 

Then he realized that he was staring at the boy from before he...got sucked in here...? Or--whoever was in the suit in God-knows-what year. 

The boy had a uncertain expression on his face and he was backing up. William tried to move away from him, but he couldn't. There wasn't much of an explanation--he simply couldn't move. But at the same time...he  _was._

It wasn't him; it was someone else. Someone in this very suit. Which  _wasn't_ withered and torn like the one he'd woken up in. 

 

"Shh," he hushed the boy--not  _he,_ but the  _person_ inside--but the boy didn't cooperate. 

"Who are you?" He asked, fear clearly spiked in his voice. 

William-- _the person_ \--chuckled softly. "Don't worry about me," he replied, his voice low, "You want your prize?" 

 

"Yeah, but where is it?" the boy asked shakily, trying to move past William. The male didn't allow him to leave. The boy got increasingly restless. William laughed again. "That's a secret. It's in here... _hidden."_ His eyes trailed to empty animatronics hanging underneath a high-placed shelf. The boy looked behind himself and didn't understand. 

"Who a-are you...?" the boy repeated weakily. 

William smiled. He hated this. He wanted to leave wherever he was. 

 

Everything suddenly went dark, like a power-out had blown a fuse. 

Then they were back on. 

 

...

 

He couldn't tell where he was. His eyes were fixated on the ceiling that dripped in disrepair. 

But he could  _feel._ He could  _feel_ the  _pain._ The springlocks had sliced into his skin, fresh with the smell of pooling blood. The teen felt like he was suffocating. His lungs were clogged and stuffed with cotton balls--at least that's what it  _felt_ like. 

He couldn't breathe. His helpless gasps were silent and ragged. Filtered no air whatsoever. 

 

A moment of emotional draining struck his heart. He could feel his mind slipping away, but he continued to watch--the memory forcing his eyes to stay painfully open. He continued to watch as the ceiling seemed to collapse on him and bury him moldy, wet rubble. 

 

 

...

 

 

 

There was a moment where he knew nothing. Where he heard nothing. 

Where he was utterly, terrifyingly, heart-wrenchingly... _dead._

 

 

 

 

...

 

 

The moment of reawakening wasn't a sleepy, disoriented lull into reality. It was a painful, sudden jolt into awareness. His only ear tapped the side of the suit's dented skull as William gasped desperately for the air that was sickeningly stale and humid. 

The teen had fallen from his congealed Memory Lane and was back to his torn, broken and withered state of total disrepair. Despite being dried up and mummified inside an empty animatronic suit, he could still feel the stickiness of tears sfalling down his thin, sharp cheekbones. 

 

"Oh my God..." 

 

He whimpered. 

This was too real.  _Everything_ was too real. Dreams always had a sense of disorientation, but this time...it felt like reality. Was he the real William Afton that murdered those innocent children in cold blood? Or was he dreaming a terrible, terrible nightmare that he couldn't awaken from?

 

_Ch...Ch...arl..._

He stopped his pathetic sniffling, his dead, lolling eyes widening. 

_What's her name...?_

William bit his lip with few rotted, worn teeth that remained. 

 

_Who's 'her'? I don't remember a 'her'...I only remember them...those kids._

 

There was a sudden whirring nosie that caught the male's attention.

He jerked his animatronic head upwards towards what appeared to be security camera lenses. William grinned as an idea popped up into his head. Ever so quietly, keeping his doll eyes straight at the lens, he lifted his robotic hand and reached for a screw nearby his jammed mouth. 

 

... 

 

Mike watched as the dazed animatronic (Phone Guy said it was a springlock suit called "Spring Bonnie") unscrewed something on his disrepaired head. Its hands moved to its upper and lower jaw, seeming to about to have it wrenched apart. 

 

Which was exactly what happened. 

 

A rotting corpse, the one of declared-dead William Afton, was inside the suit, his jaw hanging in a macabre way that screamed a smile. Worn, rotted teeth could be seen and gore at the corners of his mouth pooled. His skin was darkened with decay and Mike could almost-- _almost_ \--smell its rot. Veins and nerves hung from the springlock's jaw and sharp, steel wires seemed to have been jammed into Afton's jaw, penatrating his skull. 

 

 

 

"I    A L W A Y S    C O M E    B A C K." 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
